User blog:Lathagarr Stormgale of Tronn/The Slavers

Chapter One: The Crossing
Northern Mossflower, about noon.

Birdsong floated through the treetops while insects buzzed lazily through the air. The vermin of Ysory Felt's band of ne'er-do-wells laid about the banks of a quiet sidestream off the main River Moss. The young weasel, Lonzza dipped her toes in the water, splashing droplets up into the air, which caught the light filtering through the trees, looking like a spray of small diamonds. The vole family sat tied up round the base of a large tree. Their crow friend had told them that the rat, Lord Algicourt's domain was only a day's journey away. She couldn't wait to get her cut once the slaves had been sold. She was already thinking of what she would buy. Pretty tailrings and necklaces inlaid in gold danced in her head.

Moonwort scowled at the vermin band.

Ysory Felt leaned his back against an oak tree, raised a piece of buttered bread to his lips, and sunk his teeth in, ripping out a chunk of the delicacy and chewing with a look on his face that wasn't a regular sight. That was one thing he liked about these 'woodlanders' of Mossflower. They always knew how to make a good meal. He heard the approach of the rat Darzunka before he saw him, and smelled him even before he heard him. The stench of rat was something that wasn't easily forgotten, neither by the environment or the beasts unfortunate enough to breathe it in. The fox flicked his redbrown eyes towards the rat. "What?" Ysory asked, swallowing his next bread chunk. Darzunka nodded towards Dardarin, and mimed cutting his throat. The fox laughed and nudged the rat. "Don't be ridiculous, that'd taste awful."

And to his avian eyes, the scene seemed for all the world as though some cumbersome colossus, in its blundersome, earthcrawling travel from here to there, had tipped over a great bucket of scum and filth on the road before him. The nightjar suddenly jerked his head to the side, plucking at a particularly voracious mite on his wing, then resumed his vigil.

Ysory Felt ate the rest of his bread and polished off an apple and a couple droughts of volecider before he was satisfied, tossing the cider bottle to Darzunka before turning to the rest of the band. "Right, noonmeal is over. Back on your paws an' follow me, I want us t' be there b'fore tomorrow night."

Tezzan, Lonzza's father was a greying weasel upwards of forty seasons. He was lean and sinewy, a skilled fisherbeast. He hefted his fishing spear and walked alongside Ysory. "C'mon, Lonzza. Yer paws've cooled enough now, dearie. Bring the slaves." Lonzza hopped to her footpaws, grabbing up her travelling pack and swinging it over her shoulder. "Aye, father!" She untied to rope from the tree, nudging a sobbing young vole with her footpaw. "On y'paws an' git movin' now"

The marten they all called Yew dropped out of a tree behind the voles, landing neatly on his footpaws with green cloak flowing about his short, slim body. His face was completely masked by green cloth but his eyes, and three thin, gently-curved swords rested in his beltsash. He immediately seized the sobbing vole with one smooth paw, pulling it up onto its feet.

The marten then cuffed the teary creature across the face, not enough to knock it to the ground, but just not enough for it to hurt.

"Hoi," Ysory growled from where he was standing in the sunlight, eying the cloth-wreathed marten suspiciously. "No damaging the merchandise."

The slaves picked up the pace now, not wanting to feel the end of a rope as the ferret, Grimmadge twirled it meaningfully at them. "Time t' cross th' water. Tis shallow there." he pointed to a shallow spot where a few rocks jutted out.

“Slaves first." The fox agreed, stopping a few feet away from them. "That rat better have a boat waiting for us." He directed this to Darzunka standing behind him, who nodded in agreement.

"Shore 'e duz. Oddawise we'll be usin' dem slaves fa rafts." He chuckled. "Otherwise we'll be selling those slaves elsewhere." Ysory agreed with a smirk.

The group kept up a good pace as they travelled, eastward through Mossflower Wood. But the going was rough and once they reached the banks of the River Moss, it was already afternoon. "There should be a group o' ferry'ogs runnin' this river. They'll get us across. All we gots t' do is threaten th' slaves a bit." said Tezzan. "Woodlanders allus fall fer that." "Aye." agreed Grimmadge. The group looked to their leader, to see if that was the plan. "Ysory. Do ya want a bite o' nutbread?" Lonzza offered. The vole family had had a picnic packed when they captured them. Ysory had been there since Lonzza was small, and due to her father's friendship with the fox leader, he felt like an uncle to her. The whole group looked up to the fox, though they often also had a part in the decisionmaking. The fox always had the last word, though.

Ysory smiled slightly at the female weasel. "Aye, I'd love a bite. An' as for the ferry'ogs, aye, I wouldn't mind that plan... but there's always the fact that they might tattle to somebeast once we leave."

"So we kill 'em." Darzunka slammed a paw down into his palm.

"Wrong. Anybeast else?"

Tirni, "one of those heathen" stoatesses, drifted alongside them, a smirk on her face and a dagger in her paw.

Grimmadge shrugged. "So wot if they tattle? To whom? There ain' t no organized force 'round these parts. We'll be at th' ratlord's in no time any'ow."

"Otters and shrews are legendary for infestin' these woods like diseases on a strumpet." The fox directed his gaze to Grimmadge. "And they would just love to halt a good band of slavers, whether we have merchandise in tow or not."

Darzunka stuck a paw beneath his pointed leather cap and scratched his head in amazement.

"So... what if we simply stole one of their rafts and drifted it over to where the rest of us are waiting? Preferably without them seein' us."

Tirni, whose full name was Tirnionn, was a wild north island stoatess and a worshipper of Uil Rhaun, Lord of the Sea, and as a direct result of this upbringing fell on her knees at the sound of the running water and bowed her head, murmuring faintly.

The fox gave her a curious look. Durzunka prodded her hesitantly with a toe. "Are, eh... you awright there, Tirn..?"

A rat named Crimpin nudged Grimmadge. "Worra nitbrained beast, eh? Git a load o' that."

He cupped his paws around his mouth and crowed, "Hoi! Ole Runnynose talk back yet?"

Grimmadge sighed. The new beasts they added hadn't quite settled in with the group yet. They were strange, to his simple mind. The ferret wasn't the brightest beast, but he was dependable, and his massive strength came in handy on more than one occasion.

Lonzza spied a craft floating up the river toward them. It had smoke curling out of the chimney which protruded from what looked to be a whole cottage on top of the boat! She waved for silence. "I think that's the 'edgebeasts!" she whispered to the others

Tirni sat up. "It's nothin'."

"Alright," The fox frowned a little. "Everyone settle down. We'll go with the first plan, otters or not. Lonzza, Grimmadge, look menacing wid those slaves."

Strains of song could be heard from the houseboat as it pulled along the river. A broad hedgehogwife stood at the tiller, roaring in fine baritone. Her four burly sons sang along, their mother's voice as deep as their own. When they saw the vermin on the shore, the hedgehogwife slowed the boat to a stop. One of her sons stood, paws on his waist. "Avast! Slavers to starboard!"

"An' good mornin' t'yew, too!" scoffed Crimpin.

"Arr, that we are!" The fox tried his best fearsome grin, gesturing a paw to the slaves. "And those are our happy little captives. We'd rather not damage them, but if you're unwilling to cooperate..." He shrugged his shoulders, giving a little careless chuckle. "...then we'd be forced to show you the consequences of your rash decision-making."

The hedgehogs' paws had strayed to their clubs, but they didn't draw their weapons. The hogwife strode over. "An' jest what is it yer wantin'?"

"We just need to cross th' river." said Tezzan, smiling in a friendly manner. "Promise we won't 'urt th' liddlebeasts if y' comply wid us nicely."

"An' feed us while yer at it!" added Grimmadge, patting his stomach

"I certainly wouldn't disagree to some rations to help us on our way." The fox smiled. "Once you bring us across the river."

"Why, we could even feed some of that food to the voles, if you'd like."

The hogwife crossed her arms. "Can't say as I like 'avin' vermin on me boat, but come on, then. We'll get ye across."

"You're a wise hedgehog." He nodded to the others. "Right, Darzunka, Crimpin, Dardarin, Zeffra, you up first. Me and Tezzan'll follow, and then Grimmadge, Lonzza, and Yew with the slaves, with Glove and Tirnionn last."

The vermin boarded the boat and hoisted the slaves up one by one, ushering them to the opposite side of the boat as the hedgehogs. Tezzan eyed the burly sons of the hogwife. His spear was in his paw, but it wasn't directed at anybeast, just visible, a silent threat. Lonzza sat down near the slaves. "Right, yew lot. No fussin', whingein' or carryin' on, willya?" The vole family nodded, swallowing nervously.

"Right," The fox said, standing as far from the sides of the boat as he could once he got onboard and smiling at the hogwife. "Off we go."

The hogwife and her sons set about getting the boat moving midriver again, guiding the craft expertly across the river. It didn't take long before the houseboat pulled to a stop on the other side. Grimmadge was overlooking the hedgehogs as they filled several sacks with food. He hefted a sack of fruits and oat rolls and another with nuts and a berry pie, a grin on his face.

"Harr, this's th' stuff t' stuff meself wid!"

"You really are kindly hedgehogs." The fox grinned at them, picking up his own sack. "I'll make sure to feed those poor voles heartily tonight."

Zeffra, a big vixen in a foxfur cloak, bent and forcefully lifted up the tiniest of the voles' paws, waving it at the hedgehogs in what she pictured as a squeaky child voice. "T'ank yew, noice spoikeypigs!" The vixen released the paw and cackled.

The hedgehogs watched them go, fists clenched and scowling darkly as the vermin and their prisoners disappeared into the trees. "Oy! Don't shake th' pie around, wouldjer, Grim? I don't likes me pie all smashed an' icky." Lonzza fussed. The big ferret tried to be gentler with the sacks he was carrying. "Right, me luvvly." he said.

"Luvvly?" Ysory whispered secretively to Tezzan, semi-curious, semi-protective.

Tezzan threw a glance at the big ferret and scratched his beard. "I wonder.." he said, noting Lonzza was chatting away and Grimmadge nodded, his eyes on her, with a sort of rapt expression on his face. Tezzan wasn't sure Grimmadge could even follow what his daughter was going on about.

"-Lots of bangles an' lovely jewels! Wot would yer want, Grim?" the big ferret pondered for a moment. "Allus wanted me an axe. A battleaxe! Grimmadge the Axewielder!" Lonzza smiled. "An axe would suit yer, Grim! A luvvly un wid silver inlaid." "Huh huh!" the ferret barked a laugh. "I likes silver I does!"

"Grim." The fox repeated quietly, shaking his head. Then, he issued a small chuckle, and swished his brush. He would have rather not had Lonzza be with such a simple brute, but perhaps it was one of those 'learning experiences' he had always heard his mother going on about when he was a pup. She'd see what being in love with Grimmadge was like, give up after a while, and move on. At least... he hoped so. If, err... love was even what was going on here. He wasn't so sure.